Geronimo
by Willowsparksgirl34
Summary: A murder. A mysterious girl with peculiar gifts...but can't remember fifteen years of her life. The beginning of the newest team of heroes. A new team of villains. 1 question remains: who is Ridge Song?
1. Prologue

**Geronimo  
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_Her name was Jessyca Small, redhead extraordinaire and my best friend in the whole world. She was the one thing that was solid in my spinnified world…_

Those were along the lines of the thoughts I had as I stared blankly down at her body.

Jess was the only one who knew that I couldn't remember anything about my past. She was the one person I knew I could rely on, and she'd died because of my mistake.

Her body had been brought down for me to finally see her, and I couldn't stomach it any more than I truly thought. After I'd tossed my cookies in the nearby trashcan, I was surprised to see Batman, the Flash and both their protégé's join me around the slab that my best friend's body lay upon. To even my surprise, I scowled at them,

"What do _you _want?"

"We're here to-"

"-don't touch her."

The immense edge in my voice scared me. But as Batman had reached out to slide his gloved finger along Jess's arm, I couldn't bear to see him do it. My therapist said that I would be in the denial stage for quite some time, and I believed him, now.

In response to my snap, thankfully, Batman turned his attention to me, "Jessyca Small. Fifteen years old with a habit for vandalism."

He nodded at me, "They said that if we were to look for Miss Small that a Ridge Song was sure to be at her side, still."

My eyes flickered from him to the body, and I walked to the other side of the table, gulping down some saliva and gripped onto her cold, clammy, _lifeless _hand,

"What more could you do to punish me? Locking me behind bars would be doing me a favor." I giggled bitterly, "Give me something to look forward to."

When I could finally face the four before me, my head panged in anger at the fact that all I saw was immense sympathy from even the Bat. I growled to myself when the silence stretched on,

"So, I'll ask again, _what do you want with me_?"

Since apparently the Batman was the mouth of the group, all eyes, including mine, automatically met his. He stepped forward,

"I understand that you're seventeen years old, but cannot remember anything after a year ago?"

I raised an eyebrow, "So what if I can't? What could the likes of you do about it?"

He nodded and gave me a small smile, "We'd like to give you an opportunity that will change your reputation. The chance to make some friends and learn how to control your…_abilities_."

I clenched my hands into fists and hid them behind my back from habit, "Sounds like a church camp invitation."

They laughed good-naturedly, and I decided that perhaps, just perhaps, some small part of me could grow to like this group. Making up my mind quickly, I shrugged, "Anyone else going to be joining us?"


	2. Chapter 1: Geronimo - A New World

1

Upon entering the mountain, I was hit with an immediate warmth, followed shortly by the homey smell of burnt toast and honey. Expected, as Kid Flash sped out to be my first acquaintance, carrying a plate of nearly coal-black bread pieces with honey slathered all over the pile. He smiled at me kindly, "Miss Song, we meet again. Burned toast?"

I assumed that not many people he knew would accept this offer, as I took not one, but _two_ pieces of slathered-honey goodness and thanked him, smirking with satisfaction at his dropped mouth when I brushed past him into the kitchen, dragging my suitcase behind me.

After I'd situated the bread pieces on a plate that I'd _finally _located, I carried it with one hand and gripped onto the handle of my suitcase with the other, smirking again at the line of boys that met me in the main room in the mountain. The Flash was there, hissing at them about their posture and such, flipping around in a flash (pun intended) when everyone caught sight of me. He smiled friendily,

"Boys, Ridge Song. Ridge, I'd like you to meet Aqualad, Robin, Kid Flash and Superboy, our Young Justice team."

I nodded at each name, getting a wink from Kid Flash, a scowl from Superboy, a kind smile from Aqualad and a satisfied nod from Robin. I realized that I was the only girl, but it didn't really intimidate me any, as I didn't know much about myself and couldn't remember if I was or any of the reasons of which a girl could be shy around the opposite sex. Instead, I looked at them as if I was looking at one of the boys in our refugee group, and treated them as I would if I had a brother.

When the Flash finally sped off, leaving just us, I perched my hands on my hips, "So…who likes to play C.O.D?"

To my immense pleasure, I found that both Robin and Kid Flash enjoyed video games, and Aqualad was willing to be taught. As I coached Aqualad, my teammate, to target Kid Flash and Robin, supporters of the other team, I was pleased to find that even if Superboy was the biggest hermit I'd ever come across, he never left the room. Instead, he found his niche on the farthest corner of the couch, cautiously watching us as we beat one another over and over and well into the night.

When we decided to pull the plug, Robin and Kid Flash both shot peace signs my way in sync before making their way to the main room to teleport themselves home.

As Aqualad had slinked off before I could ask him for help in locating my bedroom, I turned to Superboy, stopping him from stalking off, "Can you please be so kind as to point me in the general direction of my bedroom?"

He groaned, as I would find that only he could, and pointed to my right, speaking with tight words, "Fifth door on the left."

He left the room before I could thank him.

I followed his instructions quickly, dropping my suitcase on the bed and snapping into observing my surroundings out of instinct:

The walls were a pale, milky-white color, as was the sheets on my bed and my pillow. There was a soft carpeting underneath my feet, and a closet sat on the far left side of the bed, right beside the door. The bathroom's door was ajar, and inside I spotted two white towels hanging before the toilet, a double-sink, and the clear doors of the shower, showing me hotel-styled shampoo and conditioner bars with a soap bar. To my complete and utter surprise, there was a white-barked nightstand beside the bed, a large lamp with five rainbow heads to the side of it, and a backpack sat before it with my initials hand-sewn into it. At first I felt like I was living in a dream, but I kicked myself for being ridiculous and closed the door to my new room, turning back to my suitcase to unpack it into my closet.

I owned a grand total of four pairs of jeans, six t-shirts, one sweatshirt, two bras, eleven pairs of underwear, one milky nightgown and two pairs of sneakers, one coated in dry mud. After hanging up all my clothes and hiding my shoes in the closet, I closed it and focused on my next goal: a shower.

I couldn't even remember the last time I had such a heavenly thing in my life. Everything was clean, including me after my shower, and I made sure to tidy it up afterwards, trying to set it up exactly as it was before I had gone and tampered with it.

Only after drying my hair the best I could, and I was dressed, did I remind myself of the mysterious backpack by my beautiful nightstand and proceeded to rummage through it, finding, to my complete astonishment, a thin laptop with a sticky note taped to it (the password, no doubt), a smartphone with another sticky note for the password on it, a small bag of the make-up essentials (mascara, blush, cover-up…the works), toiletries I might need, a new pack of pens and plain journal with my initials, once again, carved into the cover.

Out of plain curiosity, I opened the journal, smiling when I found my guess was right: my secret-santa had left a note:

_Thought you might need these. I have a friend who doesn't mind spending the money, so you'll find a credit card from a Mr. __Bruce Wayne_ _in the smallest pocket of the backpack. In exchange for all of the goodies, Mr. Wayne asks only that you buy yourself a nice outfit and meet him and his son, Richard, for dinner tomorrow night._

I scoured every page of the notebook for the name of my giver, but besides the address for Wayne Manor, I didn't even find a signature. My secret-santa remained a secret.

I sighed and rolled the thought of meeting a billionaire for dinner over and over again in my mind. The cautious part of me wanted to stay behind and return whatever the billionaire gave me, not wanting to meet him face-to-face for fear of being judged, but the other part of me, the one that said it would be wrong to not even offer him my thanks, won out in the end. I sighed and settled into bed, finding both technological devices set up to my name. Unable to sleep, as usual, I stayed up and memorized both passwords, exploring the contacts of my phone until my eyes drooped.

The one contact I had was _Emergency_. I assumed that was the League's way of keeping in contact with their charity cases. There was a further contact, _Bruce Wayne_, but I wasn't surprised. The third and final contact was _Richard Grayson_, who, I assumed, was Bruce's son. However, why I had _his _number in my phone was beyond me.

Once I was finished wondering and worrying, I took another glimpse at my boring bedroom before throwing my sheets from my legs, standing in the middle of the room and clutching my hands into fists, summoning the powers I knew were inside me somewhere to come out.

All of a sudden, my hands were buried underneath layers and layers of neon, and I giggled, running my fingers along the wall and my sheets, hands on my hips in satisfaction when I completed my task, jumping into my new, decorated bed and sighed, curling into my signature sleeping position, a ball, and succumbed into sleep, excitement bubbling up inside me at the thought of what was coming, tomorrow.


End file.
